


A Nap Under the Stars

by RosaRiver



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: After Battle of Monmouth, Father-Son Relationship, Hamilton - Freeform, Mention's Laf's fam bc they're great, Sorta based on history???, Totally Platonic Washette, Yes I'm still in the fandom, background lams
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-01-27
Packaged: 2019-03-09 23:16:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13491885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosaRiver/pseuds/RosaRiver
Summary: Laf is feeling pretty guilty after the total wipeout at Monmouth, so who better than his Excellency himself to bring back his spirits? And why not take a small nap afterwards?It's super sweet, and the father-son is strong here.My first fic posted here, I hope y'all enjoy ;0





	A Nap Under the Stars

Lafayette was only twenty-one years old. He shouldn't be here, in America, only barely learning how to speak any English. Despite the bravery everyone seemed to see in him, he shouldn't have been leading a batallion. He still had the scar from when he was shot in battle about a year ago, which to him signified all the pain he had been put through. But he kept his head up, because he knew that's what his father would have wanted, and what Adrienne would want from him. Not to mention it was what General Washington was expecting of him. He really admired the cool and collected man, and he would probably do anything for him if it came down to the wire.

Monmouth had been devastating, and he had been put in charge of Lee's troops, which were being wiped out faster than he could catch. He would turn around and another regimend would be gone. Just like that. He knew it wasn't his fault entirely- Lee had been the one barking incorrect orders and betraying Washington's trust- but that didn't stop his mind from running wild with nightmares for the first hours of the night.

He had killed them. 

They had families. They had lives of their own, and now because of him, they were gone. So, when it was late, and the troops were all asleep, he left the suffocating tent and sat under a tree a little away from the camp. He was too young for all of this. He should have just stayed with his wife in France, just like everyone said. Now he was all alone.

"Who's there!?" 

Gilbert gasped, and his head shot up. Still adjusting to the dark light, he saw the figure of General Washington standing before him, aiming a gun at his head. He put his hands in to signify his surrender.

"Wait, wait! It's me! General Marquis De Lafayette! -Please, do not shoot!" He called, wincing at his own thick accent, which he hated so much because he felt like he would lose respect the moment he said anything to any of his troops or higher generals.

The General lowered his gun and Lafyatte weakly pulled himself up, saluting, "Your excellency, I apologize."

"Gilbert?! W-What are you doing out here!?" Washington seemed genuinely worried for him, which made him feel worse as he let out a quiet sniff.

He stopped, choking back a wave of tears, and tried to think of a plausible explanation.

"Heading over to visit my good friend Hamilton, sir." 

Washington stayed silent, and Gilbert deflated, knowing that signaled disappointment. Washington turned his head towards the lantern-lit tent belonging to his friends, where Hamilton and Laurens were undoubtedly up, doing who knows what. He'd rather not know. 

"And you decided to take a quick break? In... the bushes...?" 

Dang it.

"Yes sir," He replied, knowing how stupid he sounded but not wanting to turn back now.

The Marquis never really was good at lying. It was a God ordained miracle he had managed to trick an entire crew into thinking he was a married woman when boarding his ship to America- er, but that's a story for another time.

Washington sighed and took a seat on the ground, Gilbert watching with uncertainty.

"Sit back down, son." Gilbert nodded. Strangely, his tone of voice calmed him down quite a lot as he sat down, both of them leaning on a tree, looking up at the star freckled sky. He didn't remember how it felt to have a father, but he assumed this was close enough as they sat in silence for a moment.

"Now you're one of my best aides, and now one of my best Generals. I hate seeing you uncomfortable, please tell me, are you feeling well?"

Gilbert wavered at the question. How was he supposed to answer after he had been recovering from a panic attack in the bushes?

"N-No sir." Now he'd done it. The general would never respect him again, all because of how weak he had been in his first battle as a real general.

"Figured. Neither am I."

Lafayette froze, and he turned to him in shock. Washington nodded and looked back up at the sky, "How could anyone be, after all we did today?"

Gilbert considered this, and let out a breath of relief. His body automatically lost its tense stance and he leaned back into the tree a little more, feeling slightly better. 

"You have a wife back in France, right?" 

He nodded. 

"Any children?"

Gilbert sighed, remembering his family back home, "Just a daughter, her name is Anastasie, I have met her once, and I have her portrait in my pocket along with Adrienne. She's the most beautiful thing I've seen in this world. There is also one the way, last I heard... We recently lost my eldest." Washington nodded.

"My condolences, of course." After a moment he continued, "Any names for the next child?"

Gilbert blushed, "Well, if it is a girl we have decided on Marie, if it is a boy we were thinking... Um... Georges."

Washington nodded, "If by chance you are referring to me, I am flattered."

After a moment he added, "I myself never had any children of my own. Maybe that's why I'm so attatched to you Aides." He looked down at the ground and Gilbert looked at him, blinking away his dark mood.

"My father died when I was young. Eight years ago, actually." Lafayette muttered, almost shamefully.

"I suppose I'm the closest thing you have to one now, eh?"

Gilbert felt the blush still had not left his face, but he nodded, "Y-Yes sir."

Washington smiled, and closed his eyes, "Then I will gladly assume the title as your father if you'd like." 

Laf froze and Washington seemed unnerved. Amused, if anything.

"Seriously?"

"Of course, Gilbert. If I consider you a son, and you consider me a father, then why wouldn't we be? The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb."

Gilbert beamed, but suddenly dissolved into tears again, "But Lee- I just- it is all my fault-!" 

Washington seemed shocked as he watched him sob, "What do you mean it's your fault?"

Gilbert sniffed and looked up at him, confused at his lack of understanding, "I let them down, sir?" And Washington just shook his head.

"I've seen worse battles. Heck, I've led worse battles. Don't blame yourself. It's Lee's fault if anything."

"R-Really?" Washington nodded and Gilbert felt another wave of calm hit him. He let out a deep breathe.

"Did you see him flailing about on the battlefield?"

Gilbert let out a small laugh, half out of suprise, and Washington smiled again.

Lafayette nodded, "Y-Yes sir, he almost reminded me of a duck I had seen taking off from the river earlier this morning."

Washington snorted and Gilbert laughed with him. They continued to mock the high ranking General until it reached an unreasonable time, and Gilbert fell asleep almost instantly under the tree, curled up peacefully. 

The next morning he found himself still next to Washington, under the same tree. His jacket was over him like a blanket. It smelled like moss, or damp woodland. He stretched, and looked up at the General, who was awake. He was watching the soldiers walk by and glaring at them, daring them to say a word. Gil sat up and stretched, Washington keeping his gaze on the passing troops.

Gilbert smiled sweetly and sleepily, "Bonjour, Monsieur."

Wait...

"I mean- I-I am so sorry sir- Good morning." He felt his pulse starting to rush, and the world started swirling as he fought back more tears. He can never do anything right. There was a voice screaming in his head, "Stop crying. Stop crying. They'll realize how weak you are." He shut his eyes and tensed up, holding his breathe to force himself to stop.

Washington looked puzzled, "What would be wrong with speaking in French? I may not personally understand the whole of it, but it seems more sophisticated than English anyway."

Gilbert immediately froze. He looked up at Washington, who was smiling slightly, "You do not think it is unnerving? Speaking in French...?" 

"Of course not." Said Washington and another group passed, giving them odd looks, but otherwise ignoring them.

"Oh." He stopped for a moment to wipe his face from the hot tears, "The troops used to yell at me for speaking French on the battlefield. I try and speak only English in public, especially after I was 'taught a lesson' by the older men." For once his voice was without the emotional quiver, as if the wound had scarred over.

Washington seemed horrified that anyone would even think about hurting the young General he had grown so fond of, and for a terrible moment he imagined the scene in question. He pondered if maybe that was why he never let the troops see him cry anymore.

"Did they injure you in any way?"

Laf smiled, joking, "Ah, well sir, the boots you give out to these men tend to have pointed edges. Tactical in battle but not exactly fun to be at the end of, no? Besides, it has been months, the pain has long since subsided."

Washington's look hardened as another group passed by, and they withered slightly under his infuriated gaze.

"I'll make sure it doesn't happen again." He said shortly and the younger officer's eyes widened further.

Gilbert's eyes were naturally wide and inquisitive most of the time, almost innocent-looking. It only made the general feel worse by reminding him that the poor young boy was innocent. He was barely even an adult, for goodness-sake. 21 years old.

Lafayette beamed, ignorant of the guilt building up inside the General, embracing him as another regimend went by. Hamilton spotted them and was about make another snarky comment, but he stopped seeing Washington's death glare. Laurens simply punched him in the arm, pulling him off in the other direction in annoyance. Gilbert was blissfully unaware, looking up at the blue sky and completely calm for the first time since he left his country. He forgot how much he missed being a part of a family.

They stayed like that for the rest of the morning. Occasionally chatting, but mostly just being near each other because at this point both of them needed it. This was a revolution, and they knew soon they wouldn't have time for tears or consolations.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!! I still love the Hamilton fandom and totally love writing for it, btw-  
> I look forward to sharing more of my work with you guys!!!  
> (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧


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